Tempted by love

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

When I finally opened my eyes the next day, the snow outside my window stopped falling. I pulled my earplugs out and placed my iPod on the bedside table. The battery is flat since I fell asleep with it still on. I sat up, and my head spun for a minute as the blood flowed downward. I grabbed my bathroom bag and headed over to the bathroom.

My shower was long and steamy. I let my skin soak under the hot water and infused my skin with the vanilla scent of the shower gel so that it would linger on my skin when I got out. I even took my time to blow-dry my honey blonde hair. Wrapped in a towel, I crossed back to my room, tugging on a pair of black tights and blue baby doll dress.

The day was slow as I try an establish a routine of steady occupation and quiet amusements - tolerably contented, but not fully satisfied by the glee it gives me - but, in the end, I am glad as the day is whisked away until I padded lightly downstairs where the luminous glow filtered out of the study room. It was Mason Wash. He seemed to really make use of this room than I did. The soldier sat behind the enormous glossy black desk and was infuriatingly staring down at a bunch of papers sprawled out all over the surface. He hadn't even noticed me come into the room.

I dragged my feet across the floor and sat in the cream French antique chair facing him, pulling one of my knees up to rest my chin on. Yet, Mason was so consumed by the papers in front of him; he continued to ignore my presence. I even had to sigh out loudly to try and capture his interest. My attempts were failing. I just needed to talk to someone, have them listen to me and prove to me that I wasn't going insane being consumed by the daunting loneliness this house posed on its inhabitants. "Are these the codes you spoke about earlier on?" I asked looking at the pages filled with jumbles of numbers. "Have you figured them out yet?"

He mumbled a 'yes' and a 'no'.

"Do you need some help?" I offered piqued by how he wouldn't answer me properly.

No reply.

"Hey, guess what?" I said enthusiastically, my mood was trying to force the air of distaste out the window. "The snow stopped falling."

I pouted at the unrelenting silence he continued to throw in my face. I shifted in my seat and crossed my arms over the desk to rest my head on. I watched Mason as he carried on working. His pencil flew across the page adding numbers and crossing out different figures. The muscles in his arms flexed at the small movements.

It became clear that Mason was too occupied with doing what he was doing. Yet I craved the company. And, since he was the only other person in this house who could give it to me, I wasn't giving up. I got up and started browsing the shelves for something else to do. The red and gold spines of the books neatly stacked were all about new developments in the property business -nothing that was vaguely interesting to me.

My finger daintily trailed the edge of the shelves, glancing at each object that stood out like a peacock. There were antique miniature globes and statues heads of previous presidents and great philosophers. I soon found a chess box and opened it up on the desk in front of Mason. "Want to play... or maybe not" I prompted, but my suggestion returned with no answer.

I laid out all the pieces and started to play with the ghost in front of me, making the choices for Mason Walsh who continued to ignore me blatantly. Of course, it was hardly any way to play chess, because my decisions were landing me in the lead. Yet, I needed the entertainment as being locked up in a house with barely anything to do made all the fun limited. It kept my mind off the bigger picture of missing my friends, my home, and my father. I missed them and somehow I find myself rendering my most prominent memories about them whether he wants to hear it or not.